


Rage of the Beta

by Endraking



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Liam Dunbar, Angst, Dark, Emotional Bonds, Future Fic, Gen, Liam killed Scott, Liam-centric, Locked up in Eichen, Memory Transfer, Murderer Liam, Post Series, Sad Liam Dunbar, Tags May Change, Therapist Marin, characters will be added, pack bond
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2019-08-27 00:39:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16692031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Endraking/pseuds/Endraking
Summary: Liam was sentenced to life in Eichen house.  He sits down with his newest therapist Dr. Marin Morrell and reflects on how he descended this dark road.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VolsungartheMighty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VolsungartheMighty/gifts), [Shatteeran](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shatteeran/gifts).



> I put together something from the dark spiral. I hope you enjoy the angst.

Rage of the Beta

 

 

The lights appeared brighter than normal, the flickering of the fluorescent bulbs bouncing off the freshly bleached hallway leading to bland, faded wooden door at the end.  He closed his eyes as he lowered his head and shuffled towards the end.  His manacles clanked against the floor as he moved, hindering the length of his steps, a firm hand against his back. 

They stopped before the door and the guard slowly moved from behind him and opened the door.  He took a deep breath and steadied himself before another session with Dr. Whitney.

The guard shoved him into the room, his feet making the transition from the unforgiving white to the soft carpeted green.  He knew the drill and moved to the wooden chair in front of the elaborate desk.  When he shifted his weight and sat, he felt the difference.  The old chair was replaced with one made from mountain ash.

He struggled against the weight of his shackles as he rested his hands in his lap.  The cold steel sent a chill to his thighs, through his charcoal jumpsuit.  He barely noticed the presence of the guard move and the door close.  Slowly he lifted his head as the faint scent of perfume caught him.

He eyed the woman suspiciously.  Her long, straight black hair fell over her shoulders with a singular white streak.  She tapped her clipboard with a pen, her brown eyes gazing through him.

He cleared his throat but hoarsely asked, “Where’s Dr. Whitney?  He’s my usual therapist.”

She slowly raised her brow and calmly replied, “Dr. Whitney will not be seeing you anymore.”

“Why?  I saw him a few days ago.  We’ve been making strides.”

Her voice didn’t change though he could feel the accusatory shift, “Is that so?  You are aware of what happened last session, right Mr. Dunbar?”

  He tried to remember.  The meds that he suppressed his wolf to feel helped blot out his memories, but he did catch the scrap of being pulled out of the office.  “I was restrained and removed.”  He sounded confused as the words left his mouth.

She nodded slowly, “Dr. Whitney will no longer be providing services to patients such as yourself.  However, we won’t let that interfere with your path to recovery.”

“Why do you care?  I’m sentenced to life here.”

“Well, Mr. Dunbar, if you want to end the treatment, I’m certain we can find a cell to contain one such as yourself.  Solitary confinement is not my preference but there are strict guidelines with regards to patients of your ability.”

He weakly growled, “Can we call me an inmate?  I’m here by court order.”

“And with that attitude, I can see where you might be having barriers in your treatment.”

A silence hung over them for several minutes before she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  “I’m sorry, Liam, May I call you Liam?”

He nodded slowly before she continued, “I’m Dr. Marin Morrell and I will be your therapist from now on.  I hope we can build on your work so far.”

“It’s nice to meet you Dr. Morrell.”

Another silence falls as she flips through some of the notes before she meets his gaze, “Liam, if you don’t mind, I would like to start with the events that you feel triggered this change.”

He took a deep breath.  He’d told his story.  So many times by this point but each time he reflected over the events a gleaned just a bit more insight.  His mouth opened, and he began to talk about his family life and growing up.  He already knew when and where his IED was born.  He could almost pinpoint the day.  That warm and sunny day back in that life changing July.  The last day he saw his father, Ryan Dunbar, during his childhood.

He spoke of the physical abuse and how his father would beat both him and his mother, slurring threatening words and punches, laced with liquor and pain.  By the time the flashing blue lights left with his father, his mother spirited them away.

Dr Morrell asked, when he naturally paused, “Is this when you began treatment for your anger issues?”

He knew it was heavily documented in his files.  He knew she should know the answer but maybe this was their first test.  He answered truthfully, “I didn’t have an incident for a few years.  I broke a boy’s nose and knocked out two of his teeth at school.”

“What was the boy’s name?”

Without missing a beat, “Cameron Fischer.  His name was Cameron Fischer.”

“I’m surprised you remembered his name.  That was quite a few years ago.”

“How could I forget?  Standing over him.  Watching the blood flow from his nose and mouth as droplets fell from my fists.  I don’t even remember why I was angry.”

“That’s when your treatment began.”

He continued his story as he reflected.

He knew he had to control the anger.  It's the reason he took those horrendous pills that made him feel so bad, either wracked with pain, or so sluggish he couldn't hardly pull himself out of bed.  He’d changed from so many different therapists and psychiatrists, always with another cure that came from a small orange container.  None of them mattered though.  It wasn’t the strength of the tranquilizer or anti-psychotic medication but his will. 

He loved to see the look of relief on his mother's face and what better way to show his love for her than to endure.  He didn’t care if he would wake up in the middle of the night, nauseous, his head swimming as he would stumble sneak to the bathroom.  He could endure that pain, fight through those symptoms after what he did.  He remembered the marks his father left.  He blamed himself for those marks.  If he'd never been born, she would've left sooner.  He felt this to be his harsh truth. 

He had his anger.  He knew who his anger was directed at, but it didn't stop the little bottle from filling, stretching and bloating to hold the spring of locked emotion.  With or without the pills, he would try and lock it away.  He’d grown accustomed to hiding that side.  He didn’t want to hold another thing true of his legacy as Ryan Dunbar’s son.  

He wanted to be cold, to be unfeeling, but that wasn’t his lot.  The term sensitive was attached to him and while the idea of being a caring, empathic person sounds nice, he knew the truth.  For him, feeling those emotions and riding those amplified waves could be hell.  He knew people liked it when he was happy.  He could fill a room with smiles and joy.  They tended to forget he felt everything that way.

He stopped speaking as the door opened and the guard stuck his head inside.  He stated, “It’s time, Dr. Morrell.”

She didn’t even glance towards the door as she replied, “I’m taking Mr. Dunbar for the remainder of the afternoon.  If there is a problem, I will take care of it.”

The guard gave a quick, “Yes Ma’am” before closing the door.

A small smile graced her face, “I’m sorry about the interruption.  We shouldn’t be bothered again.”  After a brief pause, she continued, the smile fading, “You hid your feelings to stop therapy?”

He shook his head defiantly, “No, Dr. Morrell.  I hid them, so I could see my mother smile.  I wanted her to be happy.”

Marin nodded slowly and finally wrote something on the notepad.  After she finished, she asked, “What happened with school?”

The words poured as he reflected.  He remembered wanting to do well.  He had a couple of incidents but no more than a rowdier teenager.  He had bad days, torturous days, mainly thanks to Brett, but he survived.  Then it happened.  He'd slipped.  While at Devenford, he lost control and destroyed his coach’s car.  It was petty, and he didn’t know why that happened why he lost control then, even after enduring all of Brett's abuse.  It was the symbol for his life, really. 

Marin tilted her head curiously, “This was viewed as acceptable?  Mr. Talbot locking you in a cage and hitting you with lacrosse balls.”

“He was the captain.  I fucked up.  It’s the way things happen.”

“Do you still believe this?”

He looked down at the shackles, slowly twisting his wrists, “Maybe.”

She pursed her lips and released a breath before she stated, “Continue.”

Beacon Hills was supposed to be different.  It was a new start.  Going to school closer to home and closer to where Dr. Geyer worked.  He saw how happy his mother was with David.  He loved them both but that became another part of his self-loathing.  He was the piece that didn't fit. 

“You felt alienated in your home?”

He weakly resigned, “Yeah.  Our family was picturesque.  Except for me.”

In their happy home, he was the broken object.  So he tried.  Funnel his aggression into lacrosse.  Have that outlet.  Then his ankle, and Scott. 

“Scott McCall?”

“Yeah.”

“Your fourth victim.”

He corrected, “Fifth.”

Her eyes narrowed, “Fifth?  I don’t understand.  Your file only shows three before- “

“Peter Hale.”

Her eyes widened, “You killed Peter Hale?”

“Yes”

After jotting down a few more notes, she continued, “Tell me about Scott.”

He knew the alpha/beta bond helped him grow to like Scott and the true alpha's way of protecting him helped.  Scott was the embodiment of good intentions.  While he was consciously doubtful in the beginning, he knew part of that had to do with his introduction to the supernatural world.  But he also recognized that's when his hatred towards him began.  Scott worked miracles to save everyone and he couldn't discredit that, but the hatred grew.  He never wanted this life.  He wanted to be whole, to work towards a day he didn't need to be afraid of his own rage.  Becoming a werewolf but the nail in that coffin.

“Being a werewolf condemned you?”

He clinched his jaw and stared at the clipboard in her hands.  The words freed themselves, “Werewolves have even more to deal with.  Stronger emotions, more urges, fuck another group of impulses that makes the most stressed out normal kid seem completely under control.”  He slowly calmed himself as he saw his claws emerge and begin to cut into the wooden handles.  Even the mountain ash seemed weakened by his rage.  “Then there are the claws and fangs.  The pull of the moon.”

“So you blame Scott for this?”

He took a deep breath and cleared his throat.  He tried to steady his uneven voice, “Yeah, I did.  I don’t know.  Maybe I still do.”

“Maybe?”

“He really didn’t have much of a choice.  With me being a werewolf.  But it gets worse.”

“Worse?”

That was one aspect of Scott McCall that ruined his life plan.  The next, the emotional bond between a pack.  He always found it _cute_ when the other members would mention being pack and feeling the pack bond.  **They felt nothing**.  Scott put on the brave face, held his pack, took care of them but Scott was horrible at taking care of himself.  His "pack" never noticed.  Never felt it.  Except for him.  All of the trauma and self-destructive impulses flitted across the invisible red thread that held them together and he felt them.  Not just felt, amplified. 

“The Pack bond?”

“Yeah.  All packs have them but with a True Alpha, it’s different.  It’s stronger.”

He wanted to scream at Scott to take care of himself, to work through his issues, but Scott was an expert at self-neglect, self-sacrifice.  There were days he was drowned out by Scott's memories, Scott's trauma.  He could feel Allison gasping her last breaths in his arms and cry himself to the bottom of the shower as the water turned ice cold.  He never wanted these memories, these feelings.  But now, he not only had to fight through his own issues, but he lived in the world of the ones Scott ignored to be there for others.

“So you blame Scott for these emotions, these memories?”

He almost shouted, his eyes blazed red and caused Marin to slide backwards, “NO!” 

It took a moment for him to calm down.  “I-I couldn’t deal with them.  Scott endured so much.  He held so much close to his heart.  Why?”

She inched back behind her desk, “Couldn’t someone say the same for you?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

With a sigh he lowered his head, “Because I always go off.”  He bitterly chuckled as he mocked Stiles’ words, “like _a literal bomb_.”

He'd begged Scott to let him go, kick him out of the pack, anything to end the bond.  Scott must've thought it was some teenage rebellion because the Alpha pulled him closer, held tighter.  What should've been comfort was smothering.  It was condemning him to a life that would be too miserable for him to want to live.  Scott was strong.  Scott was stoic.  Scott could handle the heartache, the pain, and the self-doubt.  Liam knew he wasn't any of these things. 

Derek stating how strong of a wolf he was.  But that was a problem too.  Wolves are predators and he didn't have anything to hunt.  So that strong wolf fed on his pain, his misery until the only answer appeared.  He needed to end things.  End his suffering.  End the whirlwind of emotions that he'd only barely contained before.

“That’s when you decided to kill Scott, the first time.”

“Yeah.”

“That seems to be a pretty drastic step.”

“Have you ever been in love?”

“Yes.”

“Have you ever held your love’s body in your arms?  The spark of life gone.”

“Well, no.”

He looked away, towards the window.  The overcast day shaded the green yard, “November 14th.”

“What does November 14th have to do with this?”

“It’s the day she died.  The day I'm overwhelmed with such sorrow, such soul crushing emotion.  The bittersweet memories that ended in tragedy.”

“So you felt his emotions?  Gained his memories?”

He shot her a look, “No.  I fell in love and had it ripped away.  I didn’t even know Allison, but I could describe how she smelled like fresh cherry blossoms and how she would get this twinkle in her eye when she genuinely smiled.”

Anger crept into his voice, “I shouldn’t have felt that!  I didn’t ask for it!  I didn’t ask for the memories, I didn’t want them.”

“So, memories of Allison?”

“November 9th”

“What does Allison have to do with November 9th?”

“Stiles.  The day he stabbed a sword into Scott’s stomach.  It was the Nogitsune, but the feelings of betrayal still go to Stiles.”

“So you carried those?”

“Still carry those.”

“Is that why you tried to kill Stiles?”

“September 15th”

A silence falls between them before he continues, “The feeling of having my body sacrificed to the Nemeton.  But not just that, the awakening of the darkness within.”

She took a moment to jot down some notes before asking, “These dates?  How do you know them?”

“Because Scott knew them.  Scott remembered them.  Scott couldn’t forget them and as the bond grew, I felt them.  I lived them through his memories.”

“How many more?”

“Too many.  So much trauma.  I don’t know how he lived through it.”

Her tone became uncharacteristically cold, “But he didn’t.”

His anger fled as the guilt sank in, “N-no, you’re right.”

“Is that why you tried to kill him the first time?”

“No.  The memories didn’t happen until after.”

 

He reflected on why he did it in the first place.  He thought about Hayden and trying to save her but realized even he doesn't believe it.  He tried to argue with himself that Theo manipulated him but that isn't true either.  He was manipulated but he knew it, wanted it. 

It's funny that the thought of Hayden flashed across his mind.  He loved her, but it wasn't a deep feeling.  He recognized that.  But it was the tiny life preserver holding him barely afloat.  He'd mastered pushing people away so with her strand being severed he only had two things: The whispered words of Theo and the overflowing pain of Scott.  He knows he could've stopped Theo but that would only stop one problem, the small one.

He finally scratched on the surface of how he saw Scott.  Scott was a stronger male authority figure.  He looked up to Scott but knew that when he needed him the most, Scott would bail.  Just like his biological father all those years ago.  Being hurt and restrained.  The eerie similarities from Scott and Stiles' treatment before he was changed and after and how his father used to hurt him, lock him away, "for his own good."  And "because he loves him."  All of this came crashing down when that Super Moon rose in the sky.  Everything was amplified.  The emotional strain of the bond, his weakened resolve to the powder keg of rage, his failure and self-loathing.  But most of all, the beginning.  The Super moon helped but when he clawed into Scott, he was killing his father.

“You were killing your father.”

“Yes.”

“You killed him later.”

“I did.”

“Your first?”

“Yeah.”

Marin flipped the page and read over the list of victims, Ryan Dunbar, Peter Hale, Melissa and Chris Argent, and Scott.  She made a “hmmm” sound before she asked, “Peter Hale.  What did he do to earn your attention?  He was your second kill, correct?”

He met her gaze, “Peter Hale tortured and tormented Scott.  That sick bastard brought him into this shitstorm and took glee in inflicting pain on him for everything.  He worked with Kate and turned Scott into a berserker.  Do you know what that feels like?”

She shook her head as he continued, “It feels like pins and needles over your entire body with something setting your blood on fire.  Your entire body writhes in agony until you only know a bloodlust.”

“So you killed Peter for what he did to Scott?”

“Yeah.”

She flipped through the pages.  “This doesn’t make sense, Liam.  If you were avenging Scott, then why kill Melissa and Chris?”

The vitriol dripped, “His loving mother?  The woman who either saw him with revulsion or sent him to fight.  When he wanted, no needed comfort, what was her response, “Save others”.  When she found out what he was, she acted like she no longer had a son but a soldier.”

“That’s a rather harsh assessment.”

“I only know what I saw through his eyes and felt.”

“And Chris?”

He let his head drop, “He was there.  I-I didn’t want to, but he tried to stop me.”

“So you killed him?”

“Yes.”

“So why Scott?”

 

After the hunters were dealt with, after the Anuk-ite, he finally got the chance to spend time with Scott.  Every time they spoke, he tried to get Scott to open up, to let out the emotions, to release the traumatic memories but Scott wouldn’t.  He figured it had to do with their bond or maybe the True Alpha still didn’t fully trust him from what happened.  He didn’t blame Scott for that, but Scott continued to push things down. 

He tried to share what it was doing but Scott didn’t quite understand.  He knew their bond allowed the transfer of emotions, but he didn’t receive any of his memories.  In a way it became a sick game as their lives parted and college began. 

One of the dates would hit and he’d be plagued with memories and not long after, Scott would call to check up on him.  Every time he pleaded for Scott to talk to someone, anyone.  He wanted Scott to stop ignoring his pain.  He wanted him to take care of himself rather than continue to take care of others.  Maybe that was another reason he killed Melissa.  She’d encouraged the stoic behavior.

“Everything would come back?”

“Yeah.”

“Every time?”

“Every time.”

“You killed Scott to make it stop?”

“Yeah.”

“Did it?”

Liam slouched in the chair, pushing the tension in the chains to their limits as he rested his hands on the armrests.  Barely above a whisper, he replied, “No.”

She wrote down a note as he continued, “When I killed Scott, I took his power.  Not just his power though.  I took everything, the emotions, the memories.  I took Scott.”

“You still hate him then?”

The rage blew as his claws torn through and shattered the armrests.  The chains buckled and snapped sending rings to the floor as he bolted up, “NO!”

She stood and eyed him down, “Do I need to get security, Mr. Dunbar?”

After glaring into her eyes for several moments, he released the anger and slid back into the chair, “No, Dr. Morrell.”

An uneasy silence fell, and Marin stepped from behind the desk and placed a hand on his shoulder.  He looked up to her, “How do you feel now?”

“It’s getting easier.  Some days are worse than others.  But at least I can’t hurt anyone in here.”

“That’s the part I don’t understand.  You could leave any time you wanted.  Any normal werewolf wouldn’t be able to destroy that chair or shatter those chains, and yet here you are.”

“I need to be here.”

“For penance?”

He shook his head, “No, not exactly.  I can suppress the wolf.  I can take the meds and I don’t have to worry about needing the power.  I don’t want it.”

“What do you want?”

He broke her gaze and stared at the floor.  The tears slipped free and fell, “Honestly?  To go back and never receive the bite.  Maybe never be born.”

“Should I be worried about you taking your life?”

“No”

“You sound certain of that, despite your despair.”

With a sigh, he weakly admitted, “I can’t.  The wolf within stops me every time.”

She stepped back to her desk and sat.  After writing a few more notes, she spoke in a slightly maternal tone, “I think we’re done here for the day, Liam.  Is there anything I can help you with before you leave?”

He raised his head and wiped away the tears.  “C-Can I get a sedative today?”

“Is there something special today?”

“Today is the twelfth anniversary of when I tried to kill Scott the first time.  The twelfth anniversary of Theo succeeding.”

She nodded slowly, “Very well, Liam.  I hope you rest well.”

She logged on her computer after calling for a guard to escort him.  He watched her type and when the door open, he stood.  The guard glanced to his chains and pulled out his stun baton.  Morrell quickly stated, “It’s alright.  The patient requested a tranquilizer and given the intensity of the session, I believe one is in order.”

He walked toward the guard as directed, glancing back to give her a mouthed, “Thank you”.

She replied, “One more thing Liam.  In the spirit of not upsetting you with too much change, I need to inform you that you have a new roommate.”

“Okay.”

 

The guard guided him down the hallways, lost in a sea of white, the memories and emotions tugging at the edges of his psyche.  While he stood at the metal door to his room, an orderly approached carrying a needle.  The guard lifted his left sleeve and the orderly injected him. 

Almost robotically he stepped into the room when the door opened and noticed the darkness as the door closed.  A pair of golden eyes glowed from the normally empty bed across from his, “It’s been a while, _Little Wolf_.”

He drug his feet across the floor and collapsed on his bed.  He curled up and faced the wall, not letting his mind play a trick on him as the sedative haze began to take over.

“Liam?  Didn’t you hear me?”

He slurred, “You aren’t real.  I’m only hearing you because of today.”


	2. Freedom?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam spends time with his roommate and makes a decision that will open his life back up again, regardless of whether he wants it or not.

The blur of whitewash and harsh lights greeted him as he cracked his lids, the overpowering red beating away his slumber as his lids moved.  The world shifted under the light, his hearing and smell clicking in moments later, adding to the sensory assault.  The tears rolled down his face unbidden, though whether from the memories of Hayden or the reflection of the betrayal, he couldn't tell.  The growl from his mind snarled briefly before he willed it away.

He flexed his arm, the world still swimming but he no longer wished to deal with the restraints and pulled the leather strap free.  It only took a matter of seconds before his restraints were gone and he rolled off his bed.

He turned back to face it, no different that the multitude of days he's existed in this facility.  The bedding was straightened up and he placed his restraints open and ready for when it was time to slumber that night.

He fought back the yawn as he moved to the door.  The film on his skin bothered him, mixing with the stale scent of fear and regret that clung to him.  He must've had a nightmare.

They didn't matter though.  The meds were the black hole of memories and his room soundproof so only his psyche suffered.  And sometimes he wondered if even that happened.

He tapped on the inside of the metal door, making sure to shift the lower flap so that the guard might notice.

He cleared his scratchy throat and still spoke hoarsely, "I need to go to the bathroom."

Within moments the guard appeared at the mesh and glass window and replied, "Not until your roommate returns."

The heat bubbled in his chest and his eyes reflexively responded, glaring the deepest red, "I said I need to go to the bathroom."

The guard met the glare and held it for less than a second before the battle of wills ended.

The door opened and he held his wrists out to be shackled.  Cold steel clinked and it wasn't long before they were walking down the hallway.

The cold against his bare feet sent a shiver up his spine as he bobbed along, his body moving more from muscle memory than thought.  He could've grabbed his slippers but that hardly mattered now.

Over the course of soaps and pastes, water and towels, his mind went back to the statement.

"Your roommate"

He didn't have a roommate.  Dr. Whitney made certain he didn't have one.  They didn't want to risk what had happened years prior.

He hadn't meant to hurt the boy.  Though calling him a boy doesn't fit either.  He was older than Liam but in terms of raw power, he was a baby.

The boy wouldn't shut up, couldn't be quiet.  Always muttering about this or that.  Always claiming how incredibly unfair it was to be there.  So he shut him up the only way he knew how.

He hadn't seen him anymore, so it must've worked.  A bit of pain but the silence was what he needed.  The time bomb didn't require much to detonate.  He was already under intense pressure without an outside stimulus, so the hairpin trigger didn't require much.

He reached for his new pair of clothes, more gray drab to replace the last, but the outfit was gone.

He looked to the door, "Guard!  My clothes are missing."

The guard responded from outside the room, "Your roommate must've used them."

He practically roared back, "I don't have a roommate.  Dr. Whitney-"

The guards voice shook as he interrupted, "Dr. Morrell told you yesterday.  We'll get you a fresh pair."

He scooped his stale and pungent with regret pair that littered the floor and pulled them back on.  "Never mind.  They'll all smell the same today."

"Are you finished, Mr. Dunbar."

He shuffled to the door and looked to the guard, once again presenting his wrists, "I'm finished.  Is breakfast still available?"

The guard replaced the manacles.  "Yes sir.  I'll take you there before they close."

He whispered a tiny, "Thank you" as they walked down the halls.  His eyes fell back to the white floors as they shuffled.  He didn't wish to see anyone this day.

The hunger always pulled the wolf to the surface and even trying to suppress it did little to stop the waves of chemo signals that assaulted him nor dampen the conversations and garbled whispers he caught.

He grabbed the institutional tray, with his plate and flatware and shuffled down the near empty line.  He didn't look up as he held his plate out and scoop after scoop filled it.  When he reached the end, two pieces of toast and two fried eggs were slide to him on a separate plate.

He whispered softly, "Thanks."

The sweet voice caught him, pulling his eyes up, "No problem sweetie."

Her voice reached out, tried to connect with that simple innocent part of him.  Her pale blue eyes and freckles dislodged memories of the school, of bloody noses, broken bones, and him barely holding on by a thread.

He followed up meekly, "You're new here."

She beamed a smile and brushed her dirty blonde bangs from her forehead, "Is it that obvious?  Did I mess something up?"

He shook his head, "No.  You're talking to me.  No one but my therapists and the guards talk to me."

She gasped, bringing her hand to her mouth, "I'm sorry.  That must be lonely."

The hunger pain twinge hit, and his eyes flashed instantly triggering the young woman's prey response.  Fear rolled and he began to step away, the light words barely catching flight, "It is."

His eyes always gave away his anger, gave away the presence of the predatory within.  He moved to the empty seat at his empty table, the one that seemed to be reserved for him and only him.  He placed the tray down and shuffled back, making sure to grab two plastic cups of chocolate milk.  Once he had them, he sat down, his food his only focus.

The dancing of fingertips crossed his vision and he watched curiously as they snagged a bit of his bacon and fled.  He tracked them back to their owner, the familiar grin and impossibly grey eyes.  As the chimera chewed on the meat, he stated with conviction, "You're not real."

The chimera tilted his head, chewing the bacon slowly before the grin moved across his face, "Not real?  That's just hurtful.  No hi, no hello, no broken nose, nothing?"

He focused on the features, his eyes not leaving the chimera as he scooped some of the gravy covered slop into his mouth.  He took his time chewing, noting the lines and marks the chimera didn't possess from his memories.  The line of scruff that framed his jaw.

His mind doubted the vision before him and that once strong confidence wavered, "Theo?"

Theo reached across the table and took another piece of bacon and played with in between his fingertips, "I don't know, Little Wolf am I Theo?"

The question was more of a challenge and the alpha within obliged.  The scents and heartbeat flowed over him, extracting all the information he could need.  The steady thump.  The sweet smell of soap.  No.  Two scents of soap.  One undeniably Theo and the other, his own.  His eyes darted to the grey uniform Theo wore.  He barely fought back the snarl, "You're wearing my clothes."

Theo popped the bacon into his mouth and chewed it with his back teeth as he answered, "No, I'm wearing the required uniform by Eichen house.  Now your toiletries, those I used."

Liam continued to eat, not looking down at the plate.  As he swallowed another bite, he asked, "What are you doing here?"

Theo's fingers floated towards his plate and he jammed the edge of the spoon into the slot between the bones of the chimera's hand and pinned him to the table.  Theo bit back the snarl of pain and his eyes flashed golden.  He stuttered the words, "Let go, Liam."

He narrowed his eyes, focusing on the twinges of pain as the blunt edge of the spoon continued to separate tissue as he slowly applied greater and greater pressure.  "What are you doing here?"

Theo's body lowered to the table as he sucked in a breath, "I-I...  I was going to ask...you the same thing."

He flashed his fangs and the movement of guards barely registered, "I'm here because of my sentence.  To pay for my crimes."

The whine cracked through Theo's mask, "What crime?  Killing Scott?  I did that before you."

He clenched his teeth tighter, the snap of a joint accentuating his words, "Why are you here?"

The jab of the blunt end of a baton pushed against the base of his neck, "Is there going to be a problem, Mr. Dunbar?"

Liam lifted the spoon, the few drops of blood falling back to the table as Theo yanked his hand back.  "No sir.  If the other patient wants more food, he should get his own."

The pressure vanished and the guard addressed Theo, "Don't take Mr. Dunbar's food.  You wouldn't be the first to lose a hand."

Theo shook his hand, the cut closing quickly as the bones and joints fought to pop back into place.  "I'll keep that in mind."

As quickly as they arrived, the guards left them and Theo finally answered in a hushed tone, "I'm here to get you out."

He didn't react to the phrase.  The idea of leaving was so foreign.  He was here for the rest of his life.  This was the only way to make sure he didn't have to experience more.  He wiped the spoon against his chest before he continued to eat.

After swallowing two more bites, Theo emphasized his brows lifting as his eyes widened, "Did you hear me?"

"I heard you.  The answer is no."

Theo hissed through the pain as he finished his breakfast.  He barely looked at his plate, his eyes focused on the movements of the chimera as his muscle memory carried him through.

When he finished, he took his tray to the trash and scraped the excess food into the bin and left behind the flat ware, cups, plate, and tray for the staff to wash.

Theo followed him as he walked back to the guard and relinquished himself to the man, letting himself be pulled by the chain back to his room.

When they reached the entrance, the guard opened the door and faced him, "Are you participating in any of the groups today?"

He shook his head and the guard followed, "Do you want a sedative?"

He shook his head once more before he stepped into his room and the guard removed his chains.

Theo rushed in the room behind him and the door closed and locked.  The chimera's irritation bleed as he rolled onto his bed, facing the wall.  "What are you doing?"

The chill slid into his words, "I'm doing my time."

The chimera paced behind him and huffed, "That's it?  You're going to sit here for the rest of your life?"

He couldn't place why the idea seemed so radical.  It wasn't.  He knew what he did and knew that this was best for everyone.

He closed his eyes, Scott's memories of the hole in his chest coming back.  He rubbed his sternum and for a brief moment, felt the blood.  The blood from the wounds inflicted, both his and Theo's.  He replied, "Yeah.  That's what I'm going to do."

"Really?!?!"  Theo spat in disbelief, "You're going to waste the rest of your life, waste what small benefit you received from what happened?  Come on Liam, I'm breaking you out of here."

Theo's hand wrapped around his arm and he rolled back violent.  His claw slashed through the grey top, barely grazing the chimera's chest, as he roared defiantly.

Theo had barely released and stumbled back in time to miss the brunt of the attack.  Liam rolled his legs off the bed and took deep breaths, shifting his shoulders as the air flowed through his fangs.  His voice doubled, reflecting his and the wolf within, "I told you.  I'm staying here!"

Theo rubbed the wound on his chest, the lines dotting the grey with drops of blood.  "Fine!  It looks like I wasted my time."

His tone dropped, "Why are you here?"

Theo licked his lips, dropping his gaze to the floor.  He began softly, "I came back for you.  I heard about what happened.  Heard about you rotting in here.  I figured; I could pay you back for before."

The wolf dropped from his voice, "The sword?"

Theo slowly raised his head, "Yeah, the sword."

The nagging suspicion nipped at the back of his mind, "Why?  Why now?"

"Because things are bad out there and looking to get worse.  We could use a True Alpha."

He dropped his head and let it dangle as he shook it, "The True Alpha is dead."

"What is wrong with you?  I tell you there is something out there and you are needed, and you blow it off like it's nothing!"

The fire in his veins cooled, "I can't go back.  It's not safe."

Theo snorted, "You're an alpha and not just any alpha but an incredible strong werewolf with the power of a True Alpha.  Don't think I didn't notice the shackles.  They are lined with mountain ash."

He raised his head and bored his gaze into Theo's, "I don't mean for me.  It's not safe for everyone else."

"So that's it?  You're giving up?  You never struck me for a quitter Liam.  Remember the Ghost Riders?  Remember Monroe's hunters?"

"Don't forget I killed Scott.  Killed his mother and stepfather.  Killed my father.  Killed Peter.  I have enough blood on my hands already."

Theo rolled his eyes, "Yeah.  Years ago.  And if having blood on your hands means you can't help, then I should stay too."

"Maybe you should."

Theo broke the gaze first and climbed on to his bed, pulling his legs up and sitting cross legged.  "I can't believe I wasted my time trying to help you.  Now I have to figure a way out of here."

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.  "You want to leave?"

"No shit, Dunbar."

He stood and walked to the door.  He slid his claws into the crack of the door and yanked it.  Even with the tiniest bit of grip, the metal bar snapped, and the door flew open.  The guard rushed over and jammed the taser against his stomach.  The voltage cracked but he barely felt anything as he reached out and grabbed the baton.  It snapped effortlessly in his palm.

Before the guard could call for back up, he slammed his face against the wall and dropped the unconscious man.

He took two steps out of the room and looked back to Theo, "Well?  If you want to leave, I'll take you to the door."

Theo jumped to his feet and rushed over.  The chimera looked over the damage and remarked, "You are strong enough to just leave?"

"Yeah"

"Then why are you still here?"

He started to walk down the hall, ignoring the chimera.  Theo rushed and caught up, "Answer the question.  Why are you still here?"

He snarled the response, "Because I choose to be here."

 

He maneuvered the halls with barely an upward glance.  He knew this place as if it were his childhood home.  He reasoned that, in a way, it had become that home.  The guards and other patients seemed to move out of their way as they cleared hall after hall and finally reached the stairs.  He continued, the wall of blue energy attempting to stop him, but he passed through the ripples as if they were water.

He glanced back as Theo gasped, the outline of blue energy still around him, "What?"

Theo's mouth fell, "You weren't kidding."

"No.  Let's go."

When they reached the main corridor, Marin ran to him.  "Liam, what are you doing?"

He calmly replied, "Theo shouldn't be here.  I'm making sure he leaves safely."

Her face fell, "All the barriers?  All the wards?"

"Dr. Morrell, I'm here because I want to be here.  I need to be here."

Theo moved to his side and flashed his eyes, "Who is this?  Your therapist?"

"Yeah."

He addressed her, "Dr. Morrell, can I get a sedative this evening?"

She stepped out of their way and he continued to walk as he was answered with her silence.

She followed them as they turned the corner and reached the lobby.  Once they stepped in front of the admitting desk, he looked to Theo, "There.  You can go."

Theo took his hand and he fought back snatching it from the chimera.  "Li, come on.  Let's go.  I'm not kidding when I say they need you."

He shook his head and looked to the floor, "They need Scott.  Not me."

Marin's voice slowly rose, "But if Scott isn't here to help, then who will?"

"Someone."

Theo sighed, "There's no one Li.  Why do you think they decided that we should free you?"

"I'm not him."

Marin closed the distance and placed a hand on his shoulder, "You're right, Liam, you aren't Scott.  But how would Scott feel if he knew that you let innocent people die?"

"I don't know."

"Yes, you do.  You know that in your heart of hearts.  So Liam, are you going to do that?"

He tightened his jaw until it clicked, "I have to."

She pressed, "No, you don't.  If you're worried, help them, then come back."

"I can't do that.  That can't be done."

She moved her hand to the back of his head, "Yes Liam, it can.  Go.  Help them.  Restore the balance.  Eichen and I will be waiting for your return."

He slowly looked to Theo, "Your idea?"

Theo tilted his head with a snort, "No, but I'm glad to reach you.  We'll talk about more at the pack meeting."

When the door to the facility opened and he stepped into the light and air, he'd never felt so crushed in his life.  He was free but it meant something else.  He would have to control himself completely until he returned.  Otherwise, a new wild animal might grace Beacon Hills.


End file.
